Nursing a Hope
by Artanis
Summary: Seyda is a young elf of Du Weldenvarden, a daughter of Two dragon riders who were killed in the Fall. As told from her point of view, she meets Eragon and is a little more than dubious of a human rider. This is her story. Book based.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**_ So, this was a story I wrote a long time ago and originally had on another site but got fed up with their finicky submission requirements and abandoned it. Updates may be few and far in between but let me know, via review if you're interested in more of this. I'm quite fond of it myself and wind rider (sampai jumpa, my friend!) actually wrote a brilliant fic that borrows some elements from this original. Enjoy!_

I watched the dragon sail just over the tree tops before diving into the clearing. I heard the soft leathery sounds of Saphira(as this dragon was rumored to be named) folding her wings. In my excitement, I nearly jumped on top of Vanir as he passed under the tree.

"Seyda, a gown is hardly the proper clothing for tree-climbing." He grumbled, hiding his surprise at my sudden landing. I laughed and elbowed him in the ribs. He was jealous of this rider, he had always boasted about becoming one himself.

"Come, Vanir! You must not be so depressed! There is a dragon rider abroad these days, the world is not half as horrible as it seems!" He sighed, reluctantly allowing me to lead the way. I took his hand and pulled him along one of the curving paths that lead to the place where Saphira had landed, keeping my eye out for its rider. I could see him now, some handsome, rogue elf lord, our knight in shining armor! It was a rumor that he had killed a Shade. He must have been extremely powerful for that, everyone said. Saphira was magnificent; blue scales! It was everything we'd ever hoped for!! And Arya was alive and well. How I had missed her!

I saw them then, Saphira, Arya, and some scrawny human beside the dragon. What could he be doing here? I tensed, and my heart pounded as I struggled to restrain myself from rushing out to greet them. Vanir spoke and echoed my thoughts.

"Who is that mortal?" He pushed by me, trying to get a better look. The boy was broad shouldered, thin, with a untidy mop of brown hair. His skin was the deep golden tan of a farmer and the only hint that this pathetic little child could be a warrior was sword at his waist. I saw Vanir's face fall and his lip curl in a snarl of disgust.

"A human." He spat the word from his mouth like it was lethal poison. I could feel my heart sink in my chest, my head still denying the truth I knew resided in that word. A human Rider.

I saw the youngling turn his head and look at me, waving gaily in my direction. I waved back slowly, leaning against a tree and willing myself not to give in to the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I sang very softly as he passed, more to myself then to him. Or even his dragon.

"_The days have gone down, can you not see?_

_Into the west, as a bird from the nest._

_Evening is falling, evening has fallen again._

_Golden light, tree in glen."_

It petered out meekly, and I shut my mouth, worrying my bottom lip with my teeth. Tears spilled down my cheeks now, but I hid them from view. I couldn't help but think that even a dwarf rider would have been better received. And where was Brom? It had been so long since I had seen him, the kindly old sod. But where was he now? Two others were also missing, those who had ridden out with Arya. One had been very close to her, Faolin. I called to Arya with my mind, trying to keep the sadness from my voice._Arya? Where is the rider? Where is Brom?_ I called gently, but, in my heart of hearts, I knew. I just didn't want to acknowledge his passing. I saw Arya's face change as she received the message.

_You should speak with Eragon, he is the rider and would be better able to tell the tale. She spoke quietly, her voice subdued. I changed the subject quickly._

She spoke quietly, her voice subdued. I changed the subject quickly.

_Nari and Liafen are with you though?_ I asked hopefully, it had been such a long time since I had seen my brothers.

_Yes, come and greet them. Or is all here still formality?_ She teased, smiling at me. I cried out then, putting on a brave face for my brothers.

"Nari? Liafen?" I called, smiling. They caught sight of me and their faces lit up. They ran over and I was lifted from my feet by Nari, and spun around in a most mortifying manner. I gave him a sharp swat and hissed my annoyance.

"Ah, young svit-kona, let me see you. A dress? How did uncle manage to get you to wear that, I wonder?" Nari laughed, setting me back down again. I shot him a glare, the effect of which was ruined by my large grin. I quickly wiped the tears from my eyes before they could catch sight of them and beamed at each.

"Don't be stupid, Nari, I wear gowns…occasionally." I said evasively. "So? The boy is the rider then?"

"Yes, would you like to meet him?" Came the enthusiastic reply. _How about not? _I thought a little bitterly, biting my lip. Where did he get off being so happy? He looked like Galbatorix had just choked on a drumstick and suffered a very painful death.

Liafen looked in to my eyes and read the hurt there, frowning to himself. He placed a hand on Nari's shoulder and there was a silent exchange of looks between the two. Nari kneeled down and looked up at me, face anguished.

"What's wrong, Seyda? If Vanir's gone and depressed you I'll wring his filthy little neck." I opened my mouth to reason with him, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. "I told you he was a impetuous, little urgal! I'll give him something to mope about, proud twit. I'll-" Nari went on, scowling.

"BROTHER!!" I shouted over his threats, but he was no longer listening. I rolled my eyes and sighed, giving him a despairing look. He had hated Vanir ever since he realized the liking the elf had taken to me. Liafen had stalked Vanir for the better part of three years, never leaving the poor elf alone for a second. This was one of many factors that had contributed to my almost nonexistent relationships, every immortal male in Du Weldenvarden lived in constant fear that if they even so much as gave me a sideways glance they would end up getting their heads chewed off by Liafen and Nari. I glared at my two brothers and snapped a little more forcefully then necessary.

"NARI!! Listen to me, brother. I am troubled by a little thing and it has absolutely nothing to do with any elf men, I assure you." I sighed and watched him let out a breath.

"Well, then. What's bothering you?" He asked lightly, smiling again. I couldn't tell him, it would make me burst into tears, reinforcing the fact that I was still very young among my people. I needed a excuse, without actually lying to him.

"I-" I began uncertainly, searching desperately for ideas. "I was disappointed that…" I was at a loss for words for a moment. Nari nodded impatiently, and I mumbled something incoherently in a anxious bid for more time. "-that you two were not back sooner!" I said brightly, smiling and hoping they would believe me.

"We will do our best to make it up to you, little one." Liafen smiled and took my hand. "Let us go meet Argetlam. I think that you shall find him quite to your liking."

Somehow, brother, I doubt you understand the extenuating circumstances. But I followed the two anyway, meanwhile searching for Vanir. I secretly knew he wouldn't want to join in the nights festivities, and I didn't blame him, celebrating the death of our race as we knew it appealed no more to me then it did to him. But I would hold my tongue, speak only when it was most desired, and vent my frustrations later. It took me a moment to realize that I was being guided towards the Rider, exactly the place where I wished not to go. I tried to pull away but I was already come within sight and earshot. Wonderful, just wonderful.

As Nari introduced me, I remained stock still, fighting the urge to walk up and scream at the child who stood before me. He was so young, so oblivious. So ill-suited to the task before him, I fought away the tears of guilt that started to spill from my eyes. _I am sorry, Mother, Father. Doom has come upon us in these dark days, I could not avenge your death. Nor could Alagaesia even provide us with a champion worthy of his title. Forgive me. _I was startled from my reverie by the sound of his voice.

"-evaryina ono Varda, Seyda elda of the Twilight House." He finished, fingers pressed to his lips. I cast my gaze on him, trying to keep the words pleasant and sweet on my lips.

"And to you, Argetlam." _You poisonous, vile, little, urgal_. He smiled at me, while Saphira was preoccupied with another elf who had come to speak with her. "I hear that you killed a shade, milord. That was certainly a noble and difficult deed?" I questioned politely. The Shade must have been half dead, missing a leg and blind in one eye for this puny human to have managed to kill it. At least that gave us some hope, that Galbatorix was desperate enough to recruit crippled Shades for his army.

"Uh…I didn't plan to kill anything, I mean, I hadn't planned to slay a Shade. I-" He started to stumble over his words and I felt my lip twitch at the corners, my facial features threatening to curl into a snarl. We were all doomed. Doomed, I tell you. Take me out to the archery range and shoot me now._Greetings, Seyda._ Came Saphira's strongly feminine voice in my mind. I changed my thoughts abruptly and welcomed her into my mind_.Greetings, Bjartskullar,_ I am honored by your presence. And I was being very sincere, I was honored by her presence. I was even thrilled by it. She was absolutely gorgeous, sleek and more beautiful then any creature I had ever seen before. She sensed my appreciation, which was more heartfelt then any words could describe_._

"May I?" I asked aloud, surveying her claws and wingspan. She seemed to nod and spread her wings a little. Her claws were sharp and long, just as beautiful as I had ever imagined. I could already judge by the broadness of her bone and the slightness of the joints that she was a strong, supple flier. Her head held the strong, beautiful resemblance of her kin and I was struck by the sudden memory of my mothers dragon, who had been a dark shade of purple and had had the same female presence. And then, the sad realization that Simbelmine had out lived my mother, if only by a month. I could feel the tears prick my eyes and I looked away, I couldn't bear it._Seyda?_ Saphira asked in my mind, alarmed. I was touched by her concern, I barely knew her and she was already worried about me._Farewell, Saphira, Eragon._ I slipped away quietly, going unnoticed even by Arya as I made my way to the Archers range.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_Here we have the second chapter, which hopefully doesn't disappoint!Why is there no book category for Eragon? WHY?! The movie was bollocks…_

Eragon spoke to Seyda the same manner he had with all of them, but he could sense she wasn't listening. Her hair was different from both her brothers, slightly more golden in tone. Her eyes were a dark gold flecked green, her face elegant, lines sharp and well defined, high cheek bones and a slender form. She had very sublime movement, quick and supple. She watched him with a practiced indifference, almost coldly. Her voice fluted from her throat with the gentle trill like a nightingale. There was something striking about the way she held herself, nobly, proudly. But there was something else, too. Some sadness that forced her shoulders back, her head up, and made her eyes burn. also there was hatred, even if she had spoken kindly and her brothers highly of this her, she was nursing a unacted desire to slap him. When she saw Saphira though, her face lit up, years seemed to fade away, and the sorrow disappeared. She had looked at Saphira with such blatant admiration he had to envy the genuine worship he saw in her eyes. She had examined Saphira thoroughly, as though she had seen dragons before and was pleased with what she saw. But then she had frowned, wincing as though someone had struck her. At that point he had been distracted by Arya, who had beckoned him to sit. When he had turned to look for Seyda, she had disappeared without a trace.

~*~

I heard the thump of a arrow striking the target from about a mile away. As I neared, he was exactly how I had expected to find him. Alone, fighting imaginary enemies on the sparring grounds. Face contorted with furious concentration, he stabbed and parried a invisible opponent, movements lithe and liquid, muscles rippling as he swung, ducked and attacked. I wished I wasn't wearing a gown, then I could have practiced with him. He was beautiful, every movement measured, strong and flexible, perfect. If there is any fault in an elves character(which I can assure you there isn't.) it would be our vanity. Yes, I am willing to admit that even I, am vain. You see? That is why I used magic to alter my appearance, give myself blonde hair and make my green eyes dazzle with a sprinkle of gold. With a pang, I realized it was for this very reason I had disliked Eragon; for his ugliness, as it were.

At that moment, Vanir turned his head and caught sight of me. Instead of calling out to me aloud, he spoke quietly in my head.

_Still wearing the dress? He asked, smiling slightly. I smiled back, walking across the green towards him. He sheathed his sword with a rasp and leaned casually against one of the weapon racks._

He asked, smiling slightly.I smiled back, walking across the green towards him. He sheathed his sword with a rasp and leaned casually against one of the weapon racks.

"Don't stop, I wanted to watch you practice." I answered, a little half-heartedly. I was still upset , not quite ready for such a intimate manner of communication.

"Come, Seyda, what you meant was you wanted to practice with me." He said, plucking a blade from the rack and tossing it to me. With my quick reflexes, I snatched the hilt easily, taking stance in the same movement. I had trained with my uncle ever since I was able to pick up a real sword, and my parents had sang me my first weapon of rowan wood when I was ten. However, I was only slightly better then Vanir. Uncle had refused to teach me after I reached fifty years of age, and I had sought out other opponents to spar with.

"Ready to actually try this time, Vanir?" I goaded, face stoic and impassive. Fighting was a serious and solemn business, right until the very last stroke fell. His grin widened and he mock bowed and swept his hand across his chest in a flourish. Then, without warning, he leapt. Our swords clashed with a resounding clang, and I shut my eyes for a fraction of a second in order to center my thoughts. With a flick of my wrist and a quick step backwards, my sword was free of his.

"Too slow, do make this challenging for me." I purred, tapping the side of his sword with mine. So maybe sparring wasn't entirely a serious business, at least not while we were alone. He swung his sword away and in a arc towards my thigh, which I blocked easily. As long as he didn't try and make my foot work to difficult, it was a even fight. I let him drive me more towards the center of the field allowing him to gain the upper hand for a moment. He stepped back for a minute, hesitating before he struck again.

"Seyda? What did you think of the rider?" He asked, sheathing his sword quickly. I cocked my head gazing at him for a moment. He asked his query with a aloof nonchalance, but I knew better then to trust that nothing was amiss. I slid the sword back into one of the empty racks, biding my time. I didn't want to talk about it, but to say nothing would be rude, and to change the subject to obvious.

"What did you think of him?" I said lightly, hoping to defuse the situation. Instead, he answered me with such a biting snarl that shocked me.

"Don't be such a simpleton, Seyda! We have to discuss this at some point, blinding yourself isn't going to help anything. Or are you still feeling guilty because you weren't here to see Saphira's egg? You know it's all your fault this is happening, how does it feel to have doomed your race to the void, hmm?" He turned back to me, eyes cold. I took several quick steps backward, avoiding his gaze.

"Vanir, I don't want to talk about it." I said firmly, turning my back on him. I would never have talked to him if I had known he wanted to bring this up.

"You parents were dragon riders, Seyda." He said quietly, gripping my shoulder. I could feel the tears starting to leak out of the corner of my eyes. "They died nobly, can't you except that? They fought to keep you safe, to keep the elves a free people. They-"

"The Dragons are dead, Vanir!! We are all dead! Stop it. I've had it with your adolescent rubbish, get away from me!" I shouted, whipping around to face him. Before I could stop myself, I shoved him hard enough to send him sprawling in the dirt.

"When you lose hope, don't blame it on me. Never blame it on me, Vanir." I gasped, my chest heaving. He glared at me from where he lay on the ground, breathing hard. I instantly felt sorry for what I had done, how stupid I had been. I didn't want to talk about my parents, I didn't want to talk about the impending doom of Algaesia. It was so much easier for me not to talk about it. To forget it had ever happened, just like I'd forgotten their faces. To forget the feeling of having some intimate part of my soul die, to forget the funeral processions of king Evandar and later of my parents.

"Forgive me, Vanir vodhr, for my rash actions." I took a step back from him, trying to keep my voice nuetral. It wasn't, instead my tone was cold and sharp. I decided not to tell Ebrithil about this, it would lead to another lecture about my rash actions and stupidity.

Vanir stood up very slowly and took a deep breath. He kept his head up, and looked me right in the eye. When he spoke, my blood turned to ice in my veins. He looked me over once, at the balled fists and the tight grip I had on the skirt of my dress. At least I wasn't** crying. **

"When will you face your fears?" Then he walked away, leaving me alone on the sparring field.


	3. Chapter 3

**I ran from the sparring field that night, ran as hard and fast as I could through Ellesmera. I ran through the less traveled deer paths, ripping my skirts and twisting my ankle. I had ignored the pain, ignored the scratches and scrapes that crisscrossed my legs. I had ran past the Menoa tree, down the bare path that ran far beside the brook. Then I had reached my parents tree, the old home, the one I had grown up in. I had thrown myself down at it's roots and sobbed.**

**My position hadn't changed much since then. The cuts on my legs had started to sting, and the damp leaf litter was cold and clammy against my cheek. But still I didn't move. I wept and wept as new waves of grief washed over me, vague memories that dredged up some hidden well of tears. I rocked back and forth, sobbing gently. I felt wretched and horrible, like some pitiful elfling.**

**Occasionally, I could kid myself. Tell myself that Saphira's egg wouldn't have hatched for me even if I'd come in contact with it, but I knew better. Ebrithil never would have stopped teaching me so suddenly, never would have sent me on a 'urgent' message errand to Surda. Maybe not. Probably not. **

**It didn't matter now, in any case. Our last egg. Our last chance.**

**Suddenly, I tensed and threw up mental barriers around my thoughts. I could feel the presence just at the edge of my conscious, gently prodding. I lowered the barrier a little and waited for the mental link to find the opening. As soon as it came with in striking distance I pounced, sending the attacker a jolt of pain and yanking their consciousness into full view. Vanir. I released him and heard the mental gasp of shock.**

_**What do you want? **_**I snarled angrily, failing to hide my anger from him.**__

_**Your crying. **_**He sounded upset, sorry almost. I rolled my eyes, wiping away the tears that gathered there.**__

_**I am not! **_

**I sobbed, burying my head in the leaves. I hid my face for a moment before a many legged creature scuttled over my nose. With a cry, I jerked my head out of the leaves and slapped the offending insect away, smearing its entrails over my nose. I burst into angry tears, slamming my fist into the tree trunk. I ignored the pain and made a decision. If I was going to cry like a child I might as well go the whole nine yards and throw a fit. I drew back my fist and smashed it into the bark again, feeling blood trickle down my knuckles. As I drew back for the next punch I nearly slammed my elbow into Vanir's face. **

"**Seyda, stop it!" He cried, catching my wrist and dragging me away from the trunk. I tried to punch again but he held to tight to my wrist. I knew I was being childish, I just didn't really care. "Malthinae!" Vanir cried sharply, binding me instantly. My legs were held rigidly in place so he had to catch me. In the next second, I had released myself. With a quick movement, Vanir caught my legs.**

"**Put me down." I said miserably, wiping the tears away from my eyes. I didn't **_**really**_** want him to put me down, I just felt like snapping at him. I was in no hurry to apologize, but neither did I want to push him away. Warm blood was dripping off my balled fist and the four wounds had started to smart. I felt the tears well up in my eyes and I buried my head into his shoulder, hiding my face.**

"**Seyda, let me see your hand." He asked quietly, sitting down on a tree root. I despondently lifted up my right hand , gripping the back of his tunic with my left. I heard him murmur the healing spell and felt the pain disappear. I kept my face pressed against his chest, breathing in his scent. He smelled faintly of pine and the soft, fresh smell of water. His chest was warm and comfortable, and I wiggled a little so I sat in his lap. He traced the scrapes on my legs and touched my slightly swollen ankle, healing it without even whispering the words. We didn't talk for a long while, and I liked it that way. What was there to talk about, anyway? **

"**I'm sorry." He said after a long pause, stroking my hair back from my face. I nodded into his shoulder an let out a soft, shuddering sigh.**

**~*~**

**I woke up on a soft bed of moss, propped up against Vanir's chest. I leaned back with a sigh, content to remain there for the rest of my immortal life. I could sit for hours, watching the tree branches stir in the breeze, watching life wheel by into a blend of sun, moon, sun, moon. I heard the hard rap of a woodpecker, the piercing cry of a swallow. I closed my eyes and opened my mind touching all the conscious creatures in the glade. I let my mental self explore the woods for a mile radius, breathing easily.**

**A catamount crept carefully along, velvet paws careful to avoid the dry leaves as it hunted a nearby deer. It's mind was that of a predatory intelligence, sleek, supple and feline. It's sense of smell was as acute as mine, practically tasting the air. As a rule, I didn't like to take over animals minds. It was cruel and unethical, so though I desired greatly to possess the cougars mind; I settled for a quick look. The colours were instantly dulled through the puma's eyes, shades of brown and red fading to soft grays. Purples, greens, blues, and yellows were the only vibrant shades that remained, faint and pale in the cat's sight. I felt the muscles bunch, the haunches lower and the pink tongue lick its whiskers. I maintained a faint connection with the deer, just enough to know that the creature was oblivious of the impending doom. On the catamounts connection, the hackles rose and it rolled its lean shoulders back, kneading the earth beneath its claws. A twig snapped. The deer's head jerked up just as the mountain lion pounced with a loud snarl. I jumped in surprise, feeling hands on my shoulders. **

**With a yelp I snapped back to my own consciousness, opening my eyes and leaping to my feet. Vanir was leaning against the trunk of the tree, arms crossed over his chest, grinning smugly. I gasped, my heart pounding. He smiled and walked towards me, jumping suddenly at me and knocking me to the ground.**

"**Consider yourself 'pounced'." He said smugly, lips twitching. I slapped him in the chest playfully.**

"**I believe the correct word is 'trounced'. The next time you 'pounce' on me, I'll 'trounce' you back." I shot back, trying to push him off. I couldn't. He cocked his head thoughtfully to one side, a smirk gradually spread over his features. **

"**Vanir? What are you looking at me like that for? Don't even think it. Don't you dare!" I glared at him, trying to shove him off me. He wouldn't budge, just kept smiling. **

"**First the hunting pounce and then…the ATTACK!!" He tickled my neck mercilessly. I gasped and struggled, laughing.**

"**Stop! What are you, two years old? Vanir…ha-ha…Vanir! Get off!" I got my knees under his chest and kicked upwards. I hid my smile carefully.**

**After Vanir left, promising to meet me soon, I took the steps two at a time up to the tree house. I heated the water, took a quick bath, and dressed accordingly. Pulling on a soft gray tunic and belting it at the waist with a strip of supple leather, I combed my hair back into a plait down my back. A pair of green leggings followed, I slid them up over my hips and then smoothed the tunic over them. The soft suede boots came a little above my calf muscle and I slid my feet into them easily. The gloves were worn from use, flexible yet strong. I walked to the bed, kneeled down and pulled long purple sword from underneath the bed, shifting aside sheaves of reading material in order to get at it. I groped for the bow, catching a hold of the slim deer skin grip and dragging it out from under the bed. **

**As I dragged it out from the shadows, it caught a hold of a small chest. I set the bow aside, rocking back on my heels to pull the little, setting the wooden box onto my knees. It was engraved with my houses crest, a setting sun, a star, a moon, and a sleeping dragon below it. I felt around for the latch, opening it with a click. My breath caught and the box slipped through my fingers, falling to the floor with a hollow thud. Envelopes and letters spilled out, seals broken and carefully tied with twine. Two silver rings rolled out atop those, circling like lost sea birds before clattering to a stop on the wood floor. Two scales, purple and gold, lay beside them. **

**I snatched up my weapons and fled from the room, jumping to the window and hopping out. It was roughly a fifty foot drop, and I hit the ground running. I didn't look back, keeping my eyes focused ahead. I ran all the way to the Crags of Tel'Naeir.**

**~*~**

**I stood on the brink and mentally shouted into the void. **_**GLAEDR!!**_** I shouted hoping he would hear me. He probably did, and was just being difficult. He was terribly proud, and had refused to fly me the last time I had asked. He blocked me from his conscious, which I touched briefly before he shielded it. Damn him.**

_**Glaedr? I know you can hear me. GLAEDR!!! **_

**Silence. **

**I tried thrice more, with no success. I charged at his consciousness with a mental battering ram. It was like trying to butt heads with a stone wall. It took about fifteen minutes of whining, complaining, pleading, and beating to get him to answer me.**

_**What is it!? You would think Du Weldenvarden was burning, the way you plague me**_

**I sighed with impatience, and blurted my answer.**__

_**I need you to fly me over, I have to speak with Oromis**_

**I spoke quickly, nearly gibbering.**__

_**Be gone with you, youngling!! What did I tell you? NOT TODAY!! Saphira and Eragon need training, I have not the time for a elfling's whining. **_

**He shielded his mind abruptly, like slamming a door in my face. The conversation was officially over. I would learn no more about my parents today. **

**~*~**

**I reached the training field and met up with Vanir and his small sect of friends. I had never known three elf lads more different from one another. Tune'var was perhaps Vanir's best friend, but we had all grown up together. He was tall, silver haired, with large blue eyes. He was a jocular type, and had developed a recent(and rather annoying)fondness for dirty jokes. I still remembered the incident from my childhood where he had pulled my hair and Vanir had given him a black eye for it.**

**Next, there was Galion. He was the most studious of us, preferring the quiet contemplation and scholarly study that we all found at least mildly tedious. Though he fought well enough to get by, it was not something he strove for. Among our elders he was known as the most mature of our group. This 'maturity' was easily remedied by a pint or two of Faelnirv(usually courtesy of Tune'var).**

**Thirdly, Aranethon. He was always seen with at least one giggling female hanging off him. His manner was polite enough, but if ever I saw a elf intent upon conquering the hearts of every lass he came across, it was him. The flirting was sometimes intolerable, the urge to slap him almost overwhelming. Though he and Vanir had remained mutual friends, Aranethon was the first to play devils advocate if it would irritate the latter.**

**I found them exchanging tentative blows, not necessarily fighting but discussing something. Galion was leaning against a tree, reading Nuala's **_**Convocations. **_**Tune'var was performing the Rimgar, tying himself in knots.**__**I waved to the two of them and began to perform the same poses. I stretched my back, placing my forehead against the ground. I took a deep breath, inhaling to the count of four and then exhaling to the count of seven. I was halfway through the third pose when I felt Vanir tap me on the back with his sword. I tipped forward and rolled on my back, so I lay on the grass staring at the blue sky. Vanir sat beside me and placed a quick kiss on my lips. He pulled the violet sword from where it was sheathed at my side and set it in my lap.**

"**Ready to spar?"**

"**Actually, I was thinking I might just watch." I said, yawning. Vanir sighed impatiently, eyebrow raised.**

"**Watch? And become as stuffy as Galion? I think not." He replied, dragging me to my feet. Galion gave Vanir a disgusted look and sighed, setting the manuscript aside. **

"**If you really want to watch, I'll keep him occupied, Seyda." He sniffed, pulling his own sword from its sheath. Aranethon came up from behind me, placing a hand on the small of my back.**

"**Come, Galion, your not half as sublime to watch as Seyda when she spars." He drawled, setting his leonine head on my shoulder. I pushed him away firmly, seeing Vanir's fists clench.**

"**Nor is he half as arrogantly poised as you, Aran." I responded lightly, taking the hilt of my sword from Vanir. I heard a snicker from Tune'var's direction.**

"**It's all fun and games until someone gets an eye out." He snorted from somewhere to our left, untwining himself. "And then it's a free eyeball."**

**We fought for about an hour, stopping at noon to rest and eat. Our lunch consisted of a loaf of white bread and a canteen of fresh water. We lounged quietly in the sun, discussing Arya's arrival and the reaction of queen Islanzadi to her daughters return.**

"**She forced her into it, it was a tactical maneuver. You could see it in her eyes." Tune'var suggested, leaning back against a tree. I nodded. What other choice did Arya have? To renounce her mothers 'heartfelt' apology and gain herself the disrespect of our entire nation?**

"**I think Arya meant to apologize, besides, we should not speak of others personal matters. Let us change to a lighter subject." Galion replied, face troubled. I laughed at this.**

"**Poor Galion, you would think well of everyone and ill of none. That is an honorable trait, and one the elders admire in you." I smiled at him from where I lay curled against Vanir's chest. Aran snorted derisively and shook his head.**

"**If by honorable, you mean blind." He said, sharpening his sword on a small whet stone he held. I made a sharp, warning hissing sound through my teeth. I wordless threat was sometimes stronger than a biting remark. He looked up at me and grinned, making a soft purring sound. Urgal of an elf!! If he had been any closer, I would have struck him.**

"**Forgive me, Aranethon-vor, if I don't simply swoon in your presence." I snapped icily, baring my teeth. He clutched his chest, as though I had wounded him. Idiot boy!**

"**What about Dathedr? He seems awfully attracted to Arya." Tune'var changed the subject. I turned my head to look at him and snorted.**

"**That's Faolin's territory, he has sought her heart and won it." I spoke quietly, eyebrows raised. Vanir tightened his arms around my middle, making me squirm.**

"**Faolin is dead, Dathedr has full rights to Arya now." Aran said, setting aside the whetting stone.**

"**Full rights!? Full rights to an elf? Dathedr has no more business with Arya than you do." I spat harshly, my voice low. **

"**Oh, and I don't?" He snapped sarcastically. I tensed and glared, ready to smack him. Vanir kissed the tip of my pointed ear, and shot Aranethon a angry look. Galion shut his book with a snap.**

"**Ach, it is hot, who says we go for a swim? Vanir?" He said abruptly. Vanir nodded and gave Aran a warning glare.**

"**That sounds very pleasant." I nodded and stood up. The farther away from Aran, the better.**


	4. Chapter 4

Alright, EPIC LAZINESS! So sorry, I should have posted this ages ago. And big oops on the boldface type, damn formatting…anycase, enjoy!

~*~

It was a week after we went swimming before I talked to Vanir. Being a long lived race, we can be away from our spouses/friends/partners for longer than either humans or dwarves. So a week was a small amount of time to be away from him. When you have an eternity to look forward to, the months matter less.

I was in the middle of a wonderful dream, about my parents presenting me with a bright green dragon egg. The creature hatched and(time distortedly) flew me over the trees of Du Weldenvarden. I was happily soaring through the sky when a shouting sound interrupted my thoughts. I awoke with a start, rolling over and lighting a candle using the word brisingr.

"Seyda!! Wake up, Seyda!" Vanir shook me by my shoulders, making me sick to my stomach.

"What?" I asked blearily, sitting up in bed. "This had better be good."

"Your uncle has asked me to train with the rider!" He said, outraged. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and yawned.

"And this is a problem why?" I asked, cocking my head sideways to blink at him.

"He's a cripple and a human!" He growled, glaring and giving my bed stand a frustrated kick. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

"Vanir, go back to bed." I snapped, pulling my feather pillow over my head. He yanked it back and began to rant about what a easy fight it would be and how much of a stupid choice Saphira made in a rider. I let him. It was the only way to allay this frenzied passionate hatred he had against Eragon. He vented his fury an hour and a half. After the first half hour,I began to think he'd truly exhausted the subject. With a last growl he came and sat beside me on the bed. He pulled me into his lap and breathed into my ear.

I drifted off to sleep with him muttering.

"She should have chosen you."

~*~

I slept for two more hours before getting up at the crack of dawn and walking to the sparring yard. I joined Galion, Aranethon, and Tune'var at the edge of the field, Eragon and Vanir had already begun to spar.

"This is pathetic. I mean I knew humans were weak, but this is just sad." Aranethon hissed through his teeth, lips pursed in disgust. Eragon gasped as Vanir easily disarmed him. Galion sighed and looked at me with a pained expression.

"If he sees you it'll just encourage him." He said to me, groaning.

"Encourage him to what?" I asked seeing Eragon pick up his sword with a grimace. Vanir attacked again, and within the moment, had disarmed him.

"Dead," Vanir pronounced clearly, casting me a glance. "how do you expect to defeat Galbatorix like this? I expected better, even from a weakling human."

"Ouch." Tune'var whistled and scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot.

I wondered then how we looked to Eragon, standing a almost silent sentinel over the fight. I doubted sincerely that he could see anything but a mask of impassive observation. I knew my friends well, and even the slightest twitch of a lip or blink of an eye could speak volumes to me. When the humans tell of us, we are emotionless, cool and aloof in times of anger or puerile, ethereal and ever joyful in times of happiness. This simply displays the sincere lack of thought humans put into their assumptions. We merely do not deign to waste emotion on a lesser being.

"Then why don't you fight Galbatorix yourself instead of hiding in Du Weldenvarden?" Eragon snarled, making me tense. Filthy, yellow bellied, excuse for a short-lived peasant! I made a quiet hissing snarl, my lip curling. Emotion? Mortals wanted emotion? I'd show him an emotion he'd never forget, dragon rider or no.

"Because, I'm not a Rider. And if I were, I would not be such a coward as you." Vanir replied haughtily, glaring. I resisted the urge to clap politely, with great difficulty. Eragon leaned heavily on his sword, back to Vanir. Everyone was silent.

"Coward, I say. Your blood is as thin as the rest of your race's. I think that Saphira was confused by Galbatorix's wiles and made the wrong choice of a Rider." This took me a back, it was the strongest public display of derision any of us would dare utter. The first insults had been justly deserved, but this accusation was far out of line. It insulted Saphira! I gasped inwardly and made as if to walk towards them. Aran caught me and shook his head. I nodded and held my tongue, standing back to watch. Zar'roc swung towards Vanir's skull and I let out a sharp, warning yell. Vanir blocked the blow just seconds before it would have killed him. The blow could have beaten his brains out! This was war! I pulled my sword out from its sheath but Galion caught my hand, sliding it back into the leather with a rasp.

"He'll be fine." Tune'var assured as we watched. He forced Vanir to the middle of the field and landed a harrowing blow to his hip. I saw a ruby bead of blood there, making me snarl loudly despite myself. In the same moment, Eragon fell starting to convulse. That did it. For the love of all hallows!

I ripped my arm out of Aran's grasp and strode out beside the pair. I heard other elves murmuring some quietly contemplating my etiquette. Vanir reached for me, but I shook my head. I knelt and picked up Zar' Rocand brushed dirt from it's guarded edge.

_You will give him this sword and treat him with the just respect of the elves, Vanir. You cannot afford to be thought of as insolent and childish in his eyes, no matter how much you and I would love to harm at least his pride. _

I said quickly in his head. Holding the hilt of the sword out to him, I looked to see Eragon's convulsions abating. _At least treat him with respect. For me. _

_Wiol ono._

(For you.) Vanir agreed grudgingly, taking the hilt of the sword. I pressed my fingers to his side, whispering the ancient words. He took my hand and we turned to leave.

"Where are you going? We have unfinished business, you and I." Eragon's voice stopped him dead in his tracks. He seemed to have recovered, though the color had been drained from his face giving him a spectral pallor.

"You are in no fit condition to spar," Vanir scoffed, voice threatening. I had to admire Eragon's perseverance, even if he was a slow swordsman. But that perseverance was akin to stupidity.

"Try me." Came the obstinate reply. Vanir gave my hand a tight squeeze before returning to attack Eragon. I dithered for a moment before walking off the field and back onto the path that led to the Crags of Tel'Naeir. I saw the furtive glances cast my way, heads quickly turned, whispers suddenly muted. I held my head high and marched on, I needed to talk to Oromis. Fate had other plans for me, unfortunately.

"Oh, look who it is. Seyda!" The high, irritating cackle of the voice made me tense. I kept walking and ignored her, I didn't need anymore frustration today.

"To good for us, isn't she? Little mortal lover, you can't have them both, you know." I stopped abruptly to avoid running into her. Her bright silver hair framed softly elegant features, pale blue eyes slanted and full of hidden jealousy.

"Move, Eletia. I don't have time for this." I tried to move past her but she blocked my escape, sticking out her chin in defiance.

"Oh, I think you do? How about we have a little contest, hmm?"

"Sorry, I don't fight with elflings; not fair to them." I growled, shoving her aside. She staggered to the side in a anoverdramatic gesture of falling, landing a kick to the back of my knee. I stifled a yelp and kept walking, ignoring her.

"Poor Vanir, upstaged by a human boy. So, a fat face and round ears are what does it for you then?" Eletia taunted, making my fists clench.

I took a deep cleansing breath, closing my eyes and exhaling slowly. I kept walking, I really didn't need to hurt her. I'd revenge myself eventually, when she least expected it. I turned to leave, only to come face to face with her entourage. Some of these girls were my own age, hating me for reasons I couldn't fathom. They would never be so impolite as to actually attack me, but their silence was enough

"Please move, Leda. I have to go by." I said lightly, feigning utter indifference. She sneered and moved to the side gracefully, glaring at me. I walked by her with a small 'thank you' and a smile.

~*~

_Please, Glaedr? Please!_

I tried repeatedly to rouse him from sleep, but to no avail. I didn't want to return to the sparring grounds, but neither did I particularly fancy returning home to read. Wind whistled over the crags and I sat down, pulling my knees against my chest, trying to remember the last time I'd truly flown.

Flying. What a impossible state to describe to one who has never done so. You ride upon the back of such a unfathomably beautiful creature in the infinite sky; your heart seems to grow wings of its own and soar, boundless. It is the most elated, euphoric experience you will ever have. I truly loved the feeling, ever since I was small.

~A small girl sat in the branch of a tree, swinging her legs over open air. She was about twenty feet up, and the smock she wore was stained with mud and grass. She wore a miniscule pair of leggings underneath and the soles of her feet were brown with dirt. She shouted angrily to the four boys below her, voice high pitched.

"I will not!! You wretched boys! If you put one more frog down my tunic I swear I'll curse you!!" She squeaked. Her delicately pointed ears were smudged with mud, and a smear above her right eye. Golden blonde hair was pulled in a braid down her back.

"Come on, Sey, we're very sorry! We won't do it again. We promise!" Vanir pleaded, bouncing up and down on his heels. Tune'var stood beside him, holding a large slimy, bullfrog behind his back.

"I've got a night crawler for you, Sey!! It's big and squirmy!" Aran taunted, giggling. He proffered her a stick with a large, hideous, pink worm on the end. Vanir tried to keep the smile from his lips and poked the worm, making it writhe. Seyda recoiled with a scream and nearly toppled off the branch. Galion was clutching a recently traumatized salamander, nursing the previously air born creature back to health in the palm of his hand.

"What game are you elflings playing now?" Called a tall elf lord, who kneeled down to be on the same level as the boys. Seyda kicked her feet back and forth and shouted.

"Father!! Father! They've been throwing slimy things at me!" She accused, scowling. The man laughed and held out his arms to her. She hopped down and he caught her easily, laughing.

"Slimy things, eh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, sticking out her bottom lip in a impressive pout. Suddenly her face lit up and she scrambled over his shoulder towards the large green dragon who chuckled as she squirmed. The other four elflings pointed and gasped in surprise. Vanir trembled with happiness and awe.

"I know a good cure for slimy creatures, little one." He laughed and lifted his daughter into the saddle.

He swung up behind her and the dragon took off, lunging into the air and giving a powerful beat of its tremendous wings. The powerful downward stroke propelled Father and daughter up into a boundless blue sky, sailing above the trees and into a limitless expanse of sky.

The wind rushed by as they flew, and Seyda grew accustomed to the great roar of wind.

"I can see everything!!" She squealed, leaning over the emerald neck. "Can we go faster, Celtore?"

_We can go swifter then the falcon flies. _Celtore laughed in Seyda's mind. The flight was like a dream of sunlight and all ethereal things under the stars. Like a midsummer illusion which swept through the regions of a dancing dreamland. The swift wing beats fell into rhythm with the thrum of heart beats, in a sundry cadence that swept the little elf higher and higher.~


	5. Chapter 5

_**AN: So sorry for the wait! What can I say? I'm a lazy arse...hope you enjoy!**_

Oromis?" Eragon asked, popping a raspberry into his mouth as he dutifully copied down past tense endings in the Ancient Language. The elf glanced up from the scroll he was reading, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Eragon?"

"How are you related to Seyda?" Eragon asked, looking up at his teacher. Oromis was silent for a long moment before replying, using his typically casual tone.

"She was my brother's daughter. Her parents were captured by Galbatorix and killed shortly after the fall. She was very, very young." Oromis betrayed nothing to Eragon, but neither did he seem terribly keen to discuss the subject.

"Both her parents were dragon riders?" Eragon asked, incredulous. "Why does she dislike me so much?"

"Eragon, you have many questions about her personal life, do you not?" Oromis warned gently, listening to his young wards sigh. After a moment, Oromis relented.

"Most elves dislike humans because they perceive them as weak." Oromis silenced Eragon's protest with a sharp look. "However, Seyda resents you because of her parent's death at the hands of Galbatorix. Being influenced by Vanir, who has similar views on the subject of Human Riders, has not helped the matter. She is angry with you, Eragon."

"But why?"

"Eragon!" Oromis snapped, his expression severe. Eragon was shocked by the sudden rebuke from his usually stoic tutor. He mumbled an apology and returned to his work. Eventually, Oromis's face softened and he took a deep breath.

"She is jealous." Oromis sighed, watching Eragon struggle to stop the tide of questions he wanted to ask.

"Saphira told me Seyda was angry that Vanir treated me with such scorn."

"Was she?" Oromis said lightly, but Eragon thought he saw his shoulders tense.

" Yes."

"Ah, then she is more mature then I thought. That is good. Eragon, tell me the past tense of brisingr, please." Oromis asked, changing the subject.

I took deep breaths, inhaling the sweet floral scents of the garden beds. I shut my eyes and tried to meditate at the base of one of the large trees that was planted in the middle of a bed of Mother of Thyme. All the scents kept distracting me, and I felt terribly weary. I just wanted some sleep, and truth be told, I hadn't slept in the last couple of days. Vanir had been absent and my brothers had returned to the border. I was very much alone.

The memories of my parents had been assaulting me for weeks. They came in waves of sorrow that raced through my head. I was so…depressed. Oromis was the only family I had, and he refused to talk to me. I had heard many a young elf complain about their parents, but I wished I still had mine. For the longest time when I was young, I had insisted that they were still alive. With every fiber of my tiny being, I had wanted it to be true. I thought, at first, if by wanting bad enough they would still be alive. Until the funeral, that was. It is strange, that painful memories are recalled so well when the happy ones blend with one another.

Then, a niggling resentment crept back into my mind. Oromis was refusing to teach me anymore. I would never become anything in this world. Just an elf of absolutely no consequence. Just a cowardly little useless-

"Seyda?" The female voice came from behind, startling me. I turned to see Arya, Eragon and Saphira, all staring at me in shock. I turned and bowed to the three of them, instantly composed.

"Greetings, Arya Drottningu. Eragon Shadeslayer. Saphira Bjartskullar." I rushed the greeting a little, my smile so bright as to be perceived as idiotic.

"Hello, Seyda." Eragon said politely, smiling. Arya, however, was not fooled. The frown remained on her elegant features, suspicious.

"How is Vanir?" I sensed the tiniest edge to Eragon's voice.

"He is well. How goes your training?" I could not unbend my pride enough to call him finiariel.

_It goes well._ Saphira answered me, cutting her rider off. _In fact, Oromis has allowed you to be privy to our lesson tomorrow. It concerns fairths.  
_  
"I would be glad to." I said, hiding my surprise.

"Indeed, Oromis tells us that you can make an exceptional fairth." Eragon said, grinning.

"He tells the truth." Arya smiled warmly, cleverly hiding her uncertainty about my true mood behind her smile. I inclined my head, trying to hide my absolute happiness at the fact that I could finally speak with Oromis.

"My reputation precedes me." I said graciously. After a short conversation, the three returned to their stroll through the gardens and I left abruptly. I fled down the steps and for once, dreaded the long walk home.

"Seyda? Seyda? Seyda!" Oromis snapped, casting me an exasperated glance. I glanced up from the ground, where I had been watching a garter snake slither between the roots of the elm trunk I leaned against.

"Yes, Ebrithil?"

"Please show Eragon the proper technique used in creating a fairth." Oromis huffed as he handed me a slate and with a slightly derisive look at Eragon's last attempt, I took it and prepared to summon the magic.

"As Ebrithil has already said, fairths are used to take an image by magic so it is immortalized in time." I spoke clearly, watching him nod his head for me to continue.

"To make the image more vivid you must focus all of your concentration upon the object being taken. It is essential that you look at the thing from all angles; the idea of a good fairth is to make the image as tangible as possible. Images can also be created from memory and even from thought, though it is rare for a human to possess such skills." I added the last part by accident, belatedly realizing the offense.

"Perhaps you can, I don't pretend to be an expert." I muttered quickly, trying to apologize but failing. Eragon frowned and gestured for me to continue, obviously not knowing how to take the last statement.

"So…well…here." I said, than drew on the magic. I organized my thoughts and looked for something interesting to preserve. However, after a brief search, nothing looked promising. So, I played it by ear.

I presented the slate to Eragon, proud of the near perfect replica of Saphira, her wings spread as she perched upon a rocky out cropping, Eragon by her side. The light was dusky, but shone off every scale glinting brightly. Eragon gazed at it in awe and I had trouble disguising my delight. Looking over at the fairth, a ghost of a smile appeared on Oromis's thin lips.

"Seyda?" Oromis asked with a bemused expression on his face.

"Yes?" I asked, anticipating praise.

"What kind of ears do humans have?" He tapped at a place on the fairth and I stepped behind Eragon to have a look. Whoops. Eragon's ears were pointed sharply and his features elven like.

"Normally they have round ears." I said sheepishly, turning to Eragon to apologize.

"I like it, actually." Eragon said, smiling. "Saphira's beautiful."

_He means we love it, Seyda svit-kona. Thank you._

Saphira spoke, and I caught flashes of an aerial view of Duweldenvarden from her lesson.

"Hail, Rider!" A gruff voice called, and a short bumbling figure approached from the woods behind me, followed closely by Arya. The dwarf was not as scruffy looking as usual, and he wore a determined expression was on his face as he spoke with Oromis. Truth be told, I understood little of Eragon's language, and since the conversation was carried out in their native speech, I stood and quietly waited for the conversation to cease.

"-Very well," Oromis finished, then handed Eragon another slate. "Eragon? Eragon? Eragon!"

I wondered if anyone else had noticed Eragon's close examination of Arya. There was admiration in that gaze, perhaps even love.

"Yes, Master?"

"Don't wander, Eragon. I want you to make another fairth . Keep your mind open, like I told you before." Oromis said in a mildly irritated tone. Eragon nodded sheepishly and took the tablet, preparing his spell. He spoke and then remained transfixed, staring at the fairth.

"What have you wrought, Eragon?" Demanded Oromis. I went up on tiptoe, trying to see the image. Oromis obscured my view of the picture, though.

"I…I don't know." Eragon reluctantly let Oromis take the fairth. In that fracture of a second, I caught sight of it. Arya, every feature gorgeously wrought. Elegant, wild, exotically beautiful; it was even a little erotic. So, the rumors were true, he did love her. I gasped and Oromis shot me a quick and silencing look.

He handed it to Arya, and her hair obscured her face. I could feel the anger and shock pouring off her in waves. Eragon was mortified, rooted to the ground in terror. I felt horrible for a moment, knowing Arya had every right to strike him for such an offense. If I were she, I would.

"Well, what is it?" asked Orik.

Arya lifted the tablet over her head before shattering it into a thousand pieces. I winced as the noise burst in my eardrums, leaving my sensitive ears ringing. She marched away into the woods, dignified but obviously enraged. I refused to meet Eragon's eyes as he looked to me helplessly. Perhaps my advice about faiths had been just a little too direct; I hoped Eragon wouldn't resent me for it. Oromis dismissed the dwarf then turned to me. Oh no, you don't.

"I will stay, if it is well with Eragon?" I asked politely, looking Oromis in the eye. I would not be sent away when I had so much to discuss. I could use Eragon as leverage.

"She may stay." Eragon said shakily, seating himself and running his hands through his hair.

"Seyda, please return to the house, I shall meet you there after I have finished speaking with Eragon. Now, Seyda." Oromis spoke in a level tone that provided no room for argument. I followed the path that led out across the greensward and slowly pushed the door open, moving inside and shutting the door behind me. I sat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath; and fell back onto it, bouncing slightly on the mattress.

I looked around the one room home. The left wall was covered with shelves for various scrolls and other miscellaneous writing materials, all neatly rolled and folded. Oromis's sword stood in the corner, sheath and all, a brilliant golden bronze. And then, in the door, Oromis's fairth of Ilirea. I treasured that fairth with all my heart, treasured the thought of such a beautiful city. When I was very young, barely a score of years, he had adopted the role of my father. Told me about Ilirea with an almost innate vividness and attention to detail. It had helped me to forget my parents, the atrocities that had been done to them.

It hadn't been enough for Galbatorix, just to kill my mother. He had to destroy her. Arya had led me away, when they brought her body back, bloodied and broken. I had broken free of her hold though intent to see something I should never have suffered the sight of.

Her elegant, flawless form was stretched out across the bed; unclad as they tried desperately to heal her wounds. Her hand had hung limply over the edge of the bed, trickled and traced with scarlet. Blue eyes had gazed sightlessly, one of them swollen shut. Her chest had jerked rapidly, blood shining in the candlelight. Arya tried to draw me away, but I had remained transfixed by her eyes. She didn't recognize me. I had reached out for her hand, clasped it, but been knocked back when she struck me. I hadn't understood her delirium at the time she didn't know they wanted to make her well again. Blood bubbled from her lips as the ragged breath…

The door opened and Oromis stepped inside, leaving it slightly ajar. My thoughts shifted away from the grisly memory and back to the task at hand. I sat up and curled against the wall, glaring.

"You've been ignoring me," I accused, tucking my knees to my chest. Oromis took a seat at the table and pressed his fingertips to each other, in a manner that suggested a long and arduous conversation lay ahead.

"You are no longer a child-"

"You've been ignoring me none the less." I cut him off, hurt.

"And are perfectly capable of dealing with-"

"You've been ignoring me because you lied to me." I said more pointedly, interrupting him.

"Seyda, that is enough!" The rebuke was sharp enough and loud enough to scare me into a temporary silence. "You shall allow me to finish or I shall send you from my sight!"

I remained silence nursing my hurt pride. It took Oromis a moment to compose himself before he spoke. He looked uncertain as though he had made the wrong choice.

"When Brom retrieved Saphira's egg, I promised your father I would never allow you to see it."

"Why not? Why did you lie to me?"

"I never lied, you never asked." Oromis replied. "Because he wanted to keep you safe."

"So you wouldn't let me see her egg? How did you know it even would have hatched?" My voice rose as my fury mounted. "For anyone? We could have waited years!"

"But we didn't. Eragon is more than capable of completing the duty, despite what Vanir may say."

"I don't just believe what Vanir says, I'm not a child!"  
"And yet you still behave like one." Oromis said icily, watching me impassively. I could think of no argument for that, but my fists clenched and unclenched rebelliously. I would never hit him, but I wanted to.

"Seyda, as my niece, I ask you not to speak of this. To anyone, specifically Vanir." Oromis said, then turned from me.

"As you say, I behave like a child. Yet I think like an adult, and by all laws am considered one. I make my own decisions, Uncle." Speaking with a tone meant to be condescending, I turned and threw open the door. Glaedr's head blocked my escape, a large golden eye inches from my nose.

Ah, little one. How goes your talk?

He asked, hot breath warm against my ankles.

"It goes ill." I snapped angrily, realizing that he must have been 'asleep' nearly half the times I'd called on him.

It will go better before I let you free.

He growled and turned his scaly hide, blocking my escape out the door.

"GLAEDR!" I thumped my fist against his haunch in my fury, serving nothing but to bruise my knuckles.

"Seyda?" Oromis inquired politely as I continued my futile assault on Glaedr. He stepped over a stool and set a hand on my shoulder, letting me punch Glaedr all I wanted. "I want you to be present for Eragon's lessons."

"What?" I stopped and glared at him. "Why?"

"I cannot teach him everything myself, you must help him both in his lessons and out. Especially…especially…" Oromis faltered for a moment. "… with magic."

I held my breath for a moment, weighing my options. I damn well wouldn't play babysitter to this human! But, if it meant a visit to Oromis's every day, not to mention the way I could discreetly learn through Eragon…. the opportunity was too sweet to let pass. Then, there was Oromis's 'disability' with large spells.

"I will do all in my power to guide him, Uncle." I spoke clearly and happily, unclenching my fisted hand.

"Good, Saphira and Eragon shall take you back to Ellesmera now." Oromis said, collecting some scrolls and pushing Glaedr aside.

"But…I'll have to ride with them, then?" No, no, no, say no!

"Yes, is that disagreeable to you?" Oromis raised an eyebrow and guided me outside. Saphira was curled cat like against a boulder, Eragon seated between her claws. I envied them together. Upon seeing me, Eragon stood up and pressed his fingers to his lips, speaking the elven greeting and honoring me by speaking it first. I nodded to him curtly and repeated my half and turned to Saphira.

" Here." He held the stirrup for me. Oh, please. I jumped up, and dragging him up in the same movement. He took the front and I wiggled back, not quite comfortable this close to him.

_Your ear tips are turning pink, little one._

Glaedr warned, the laughter in his thoughts evident. I settled for a stony stare before Eragon's voice jerked me back to the present.

"You might want to hold on, it's a little bumpy." He said lamely just as uncomfortable with me as I was with him. I rolled my eyes and set my hands lightly on his shoulders. Maybe it was time we put aside our differences. One step at a time, course.


End file.
